


Confronted

by completelyhopeless



Category: DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comment Fic, Community: comment_fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 06:13:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3370850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/completelyhopeless/pseuds/completelyhopeless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim Drake confronts Dick with the knowledge that he's Batman <em>and</em> Nightwing and offers to help since Robin is injured and Bruce is dead. Dick does not react well.</p><p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3117377">The Reluctant Bat</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confronted

**Author's Note:**

> So a couple weeks ago there was [a request](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/594770.html?thread=83083602#t83083602) for this prompt: _DCU, Tim Drake & Any, What if Jason survived Death in the Family, who would Tim Drake be?_
> 
> And I thought it would be a good follow up to the Reluctant Bat after the conversation likewinning and I had after that one, and so I decided I'd try it when I read Tim's intro to the comics.
> 
> And since I didn't trust myself with my other AUs, I gave this a shot.

* * *

“Mr. Grayson, your ten o'clock is here.”

Dick reached for his coffee, wondering how far he would have fallen in Bruce's eyes if he used anything stronger to get through his day. He hurt like hell after a bad night as Batman followed by a worse night as Nightwing, and the last thing he wanted was to be in Bruce's office trying to make sense of Wayne Enterprises. Even with Lucius Fox to help him, Dick knew he wasn't making much progress with the business. Bruce had put on a helpless playboy act and concealed his brain, but that wasn't Dick, and everyone already knew that.

He had been too smart for his own good as a child, and now he was paying for it.

“Show him in,” Dick said, trying to remember the secretary's name. He'd met her after he returned, and everything since Bruce died had been in a sort of fog that Dick wasn't sure had lifted. He knew others would tell him he needed time to grieve, but he did not have that time. Not now. Not with Gotham in disarray, Jason still injured, and Bruce dead.

“Mr. Grayson?”

Dick frowned, looking down at his calendar. “Okay, kid. I think someone's playing a joke on me, and really, this is a terrible time for it. I'm supposed to meet with—”

“Jack Drake. I know. He's my father, and he let me come in his place. Well, that's not entirely true. I didn't tell him I was making the appointment for him, so he doesn't know I came in his place, but I _had_ to—”

Dick rose. “I don't know what you think you're doing, but it's not happening. I don't have time for this. If you're not Jack Drake and not here about the Wayne Foundation, we have nothing to discuss. I should be—”

“With the Teen Titans?”

Dick forced a smile as he shook his head. “Amusing, but just because I inherited a billion dollar empire and all that comes with it does not make me one of them. I'm not really a teenager—”

“Just Nightwing. And Batman.”

How the hell—Never mind. Dick didn't care. This kid could not know who he was. This was a joke or a test, but it wasn't real. “You're funny, kid, but I'm not. And you _are_ going, even if I have to call security—”

“Only three people on earth could do a quadruple flip. You, your mom, and your dad. They're dead,” Drake—if that was the kid's name said—and Dick tried not to react again. “I know you can do it because I was there that night. I saw you do it and I saw them fall. And then... Then I saw _Robin_ do it. I know you were Robin. I know you became Nightwing. Because I knew you were Robin, I knew Bruce Wayne was Batman. And I know that he's dead and you've become Batman, that you're still carrying on with Nightwing so that no one knows and—” 

“And you have a lot of stories and no proof and we are done with this. If you spread that accusation anywhere else, I will take legal—”

“I have pictures. Of Robin. And Nightwing. And Batman. I have pictures of you in costume doing that quadruple flip. I _know_ it's you. And I know what happened to Batman. To Bruce,” the kid insisted. “I know Jason got hurt. He almost died when Bruce did. You need help. You can't keep doing this on your own.”

Dick snorted. “Batman operated for years on his own. He doesn't need anyone's help. I am not Batman, and if you repeat any of this out of this room—”

“Please,” the kid said, holding a photo up to Dick's face, one of his parents and him and some kid, and it was all Dick could do to keep from shoving the boy away from him. “Let me help.”


End file.
